CHAPTER ONE
Toa Matau grimaced as he picked up the piece of an Airship. There were plenty of them scattered across the ruins of the Moto-Hub, as well as outside in the streets of Le-Metru. Clearly, the great cataclysm that Makuta had wrought when he cast Mata Nui into slumber had not been kind to the Moto-Hub and its contents. Or the rest of Metru Nui, for that matter.
Matau could tell the others were staring at him as he stood amid the wreckage. From behind him, Nuju asked, “Do you know how to put one back together?”
“Yeah,” Matau replied, not sounding a hundred percent certain. “Kinda. I usually had other Le-Matoran working with me, though. Lots of them, at that.”
Onewa sighed as he picked up another piece. “Well, we might as well get to work. You’re gonna have to guide us, though.”
Matau shook his head as he dropped the piece he was holding. “There’s no point. It will take forever-long. Even if you guys were smart-thinking Le-Matoran, there’s not enough of us to build an Airship in less than a few days. The Matoran don’t have that kind of time.”
“We would probably need something that can fix things quickly,” mused Whenua. “Maybe we could use a regeneration Kanoka disk.”
“Even the highest-level regeneration disk would barely be enough to repair something as large as an Airship,” said Vakama. “And we would need lots of them.”
“What about a mask then?” asked Onewa. “You’re the mask maker here. Surely there’s a mask you could make out of a disk like that.”
Vakama thought for a moment. “There is, actually,” he said. “The Kanohi Kiril, the Mask of Regeneration. Turaga Dume wore one, I believe.”
At this, Nokama perked up. “Wait. Turaga Dume… he’s still in one of the spheres, beneath Po-Metru.”
Vakama nodded. “That he is, sister.” The Toa Metru had discovered the sleeping form of Metru Nui’s Turaga shortly before their confrontation with Makuta, at which point they had deduced that the Turaga Dume who had branded them as impostors was in fact the real impostor; that impostor having been Makuta himself.
“Except Dume didn’t have his mask when we found him,” Nuju pointed out. “Makuta had it. Meaning it’s either with him or back at the Coliseum, if it’s even still intact.”
“Well, no way are we break-freeing Makuta from his prison,” said Matau. “So I guess to the Coliseum it is!”
The Toa of Air started to leave only for Nokama to grab his arm. “Wait,” she said. “Shouldn’t we check on Turaga Dume to make sure he’s still safe?”
“Po-Metru is on the other end of the island,” said Onewa. “With the chutes not working, it would be a long journey. Plus, those spheres are heavy. You expect us to carry him all the way back to the Coliseum?”
“We’ll go to the Coliseum and get his mask, then we’ll get his mask,” Vakama said. The tone in his voice indicated there was little room for argument.
Nokama looked uncertainly towards the Toa of Fire. He was already striding out of the Moto-Hub, his back to her. With a quiet sigh, Nokama walked after him, with the other four Toa trailing close behind.
* * *
Far off the coast of Metru Nui, trapped within a seal of protodermis, Makuta was growing restless.
The first stage of his plan had not turned out the way he had expected. Although he had been successful in placing a spell on Mata Nui and lulling the Great Spirit into a deep slumber, his plan to brainwash and enslave the Matoran population of Metru Nui had been botched by the city’s new Toa defenders.
How could this have been possible? The stars had foretold a different set of Matoran that were destined to become Toa and Makuta had manipulated Toa Lhikan into transferring his power to the wrong ones. Yet still they had managed to stop him… but not for long. Makuta knew it was only a matter of time before he finally broke free from this prison. It was simply when and how that were in question.
He had reached out with his mind to two of his most trusted minions, Sidorak and Roodaka, in order to summon them and the Visorak Hordes to Metru Nui. However, something had blocked him and his message had gone unreceived. Who or what was responsible for this interference, Makuta did not know, which only infuriated him more.
Still, he had to remain calm. Blind rage would get him nowhere. Besides, he could sense that the six Toa responsible for his current predicament had returned to Metru Nui. Their powers were the only thing that could free him from this prison. All he needed to do was direct them towards doing just that.
An opportunity would present itself eventually, he knew. He simply needed to wait. Then, once he was free, the Toa Metru would learn the full extent of his wrath… and the Great City would finally be his.
* * *
With the chute system having been destroyed in the cataclysm, the trip from Le-Metru to the Coliseum had taken much longer than it normally would have. Matau had tried to pass the time by entertaining the others with his Mask of Illusion, though it was more for his own amusement than for anyone else’s. His fun came to an abrupt end when Onewa threatened to throw a rock at Matau after the Toa of Air had scared him with the form of the late Dark Hunter Nidhiki.
“Sheesh, some stick in the mud you are,” Matau grumbled as he returned to his original form. “I thought Stone-types like you were fun-lovers.”
“It’s hard to be a ‘fun-lover’ when your city is dead and all of your friends are trapped in stasis spheres,” Onewa retorted.
Those words cut through Matau’s merriment and the Toa of Air remained quiet for the rest of the journey. None of the others spoke until they reached the Coliseum. As they walked through the front gates, stepping over the bodies of deactivated Vahki enforcers, Whenua looked up at the worn black tower that served as the centerpiece of Metru Nui, stretching up towards the blackened skies.
“How are we going to get up there?” the Toa of Earth asked. “I doubt the elevators are working after Makuta shut down the power grid.”
“Maybe Nuju can lift us all up there with that mask of his,” Matau suggested, nudging the Toa of Ice with an elbow.
Nuju frowned at him. “Very funny.” He then looked over to Vakama. “You don’t actually expect me to do that, do you?”
“No.” Vakama brought out his Disk Launcher and attached it to his back. “I’ll fly up and look for Turaga Dume’s mask. In the meantime, the rest of you head down and make sure the rest of the Matoran spheres are still safe and sound. I’ll meet up with you later.”
The Toa of Fire took off before anyone could say anything. As they watched him go, Onewa muttered, “Is it just me, or has he been acting different lately?”
Nokama nodded solemnly. “Ever since we defeated Makuta, he’s been a lot more… hot-headed, for lack of a better term. I feel like he’s trying to emulate Toa Lhikan, but he’s lacking the… humility and grace that made Lhikan so noble and revered.”
“Do you think he still blames himself for Lhikan’s death?” asked Whenua.
Nokama did not have an answer for that. Instead, she motioned the other four Toa to follow her as they headed into the Coliseum.
* * *
Vakama touched down onto the Coliseum’s highest balcony, where Makuta had revealed himself to the Toa Metru not so long ago. Seeing no sign of the Kanohi Kiril on the floor, he stepped into the chamber beyond, generating a small flame in his hand to light the way.
The throne from which the Turaga had once ruled Metru Nui sat in the center of the room, empty and unused. Outside the windows, the dark sky flashed with lightning as small drops of water trickled down the panes of glass. Beyond that, there was nothing much of interest in the room.
As Vakama explored the room, hovering his flame over the floor, he could not help but get the feeling that he was being watched. He caught movement in the corner of his eye and shined the fire in that direction, only to find nothing but a blank wall.
Must have been a Rahi, he thought. Thanks to the cataclysm, there were sure to be dozens if not hundreds of wild Rahi roaming around the city, having escaped from the Archives. If anything was going to prove to be a hindrance to the Toa in rescuing the Matoran, it was going to be that.
Turning back around, Vakama cast his light on the throne and finally spotted a red and black mask laying at the foot of the seat. With a sigh of relief, Vakama walked over to the mask and picked it up from the ground. As he was about to extinguish his flame, he could have sworn he heard the sound of skittering up in the rafters. But when he looked up and illuminated the darkness, he again saw nothing.
Figuring it was had just been a stone rat that he had scared off, Vakama put out his fire and headed back outside, activating his rocket pack to lift himself off from the balcony.
* * *
As the other five Toa Metru descended into the storage level beneath the Coliseum, Nokama could not help but feel at unease. Vakama had said earlier that something felt off about Metru Nui and she found herself agreeing with that assessment. It wasn’t just the quietness or the lack of Matoran living in the city. There was something else; something that she could not quite put into words. It hung over her like a storm cloud, filled with water yet never raining down on her.
Whenua had taken the lead, lighting the way with his Mask of Night Vision. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairway, he took a turn that took them into the main storage area… and immediately came to a stop.
“Uh… something’s not right, here,” the Toa of Earth said quietly.
“What is it?” asked Onewa.
However, Nokama could already tell what Whenua was talking about. Her eyes roamed the shelves that contained hundreds of Matoran spheres… and noticed how there were many gaps between the spheres. Too many.
“The Matoran,” she whispered. “Some of them are missing.”
“What?” Matau exclaimed, looking at the shelves. “Are you sure?”
“We only took six, yet there are a lot more than six missing here.” A look of worry and dread began to fall upon Nokama’s mask. “Someone’s been here before.”
The other Toa tensed. Matau and Onewa drew their tools, the latter gripping his Proto Pitons tightly as he scowled. “And they’re probably still here.”
Behind them, footsteps were heard coming down the stairs. Startled, Matau let out a yell as he spun around and generated a small cyclone from his Aero Slicers. The blast of wind hit its target and a red-armored figure came tumbling down the stairs, letting out a loud grunt as they hit the bottom.
Matau winced as he looked down at Vakama. “Sorry, fire-spitter. I, uh, thought you were someone else.”
Vakama glared at him as he got back up, dusting himself off. “Who else could I have been? I told you that I would be joining you.”
“Vakama, someone has been taking the Matoran spheres!” Nokama said urgently, indicating the empty spots on the shelves.
The Toa of Fire grimaced as he cast his gaze upon the shelves. Immediately, his mind went back to the “Rahi” he thought he had heard back in the Coliseum. Now, however, he was starting to realize that it might not have been a Rahi at all.
“We’re not alone,” he said in a low voice.
“Fantastic,” Matau said dryly. “And we forgot to bring the ‘welcome’ banners.”
Nokama looked to Vakama, a worried look on her blue mask. “What should we do, Vakama?”
The Toa Metru of Fire did not have an answer for her.
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